


Focus (On These Arms Around Me)

by euhemeria



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Praise Kink, Shower Sex, Threesome - F/F/F, consensual voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 02:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14607735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euhemeria/pseuds/euhemeria
Summary: She had not expected Aleks to reach out and then, hand suspended in the air between herself and Angela’s back, ask, voice pitched lower by arousal,“May I touch?”had not expected the shiver that rippled down Angela’s spine at the words, or the sudden insistent tug of arousal in her own gut at the sight of Aleks’ hand tracing the marks that she had left on her girlfriend’s skin just hours earlier.Or,Fareeha and Angela are dating, and they both find Aleks terribly attractive.  Moderately awkward but ultimately satisfying threeway sex ensues.





	Focus (On These Arms Around Me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tashatops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashatops/gifts).



> This is a comm for the lovely Vicky, who is oh-so-very patient and wanted that Good Gay Content.
> 
> It _is_ gay if it's a threeway, especially if you're all gay.

When, for the second time in as many minutes, Aleks _almost_ slips and sends the three of them crashing to the tile of the watchpoint’s gym showers, stopped from crushing Angela only by the fact that the three of them are, barely, caught by her own timely intervention, Fareeha begins to question the wisdom of how it is she came to be in this situation.

 Certainly, it is not one which she would normally complain about—being nude with not only one but _two_ beautiful women, one of whom she loves very much and the other of whom is a dear friend—but, perhaps the timing could have been better, or the location more carefully chosen.

When, however, after months of she and Angela discussing their mutual attraction to a certain Aleksandra Zaryanova, and resolving to proposition her, Fareeha saw an opportunity to do so—who could blame her for taking it without necessarily thinking things through as much as she might normally?  At the rate she and Angela were making progress, Overwatch might be _legal_ again before they managed to proposition Aleks.  Things are better this way, even with the risk of soap in their eyes, or falling and getting an unfortunate injury.

(At least, as Fareeha has learned dating Angela, if you get an embarrassing sex injury while having sex _with the doctor_ you are saved all the normal awkward excuses.)

In any case, she had not _quite_ intended to have things move this quickly, had intended to entice, to tease, to proposition—had not expected Aleks to reach out and then, hand suspended in the air between herself and Angela’s back, ask, voice pitched lower by arousal, “ _May I touch?_ ” had not expected the shiver that rippled down Angela’s spine at the words, or the sudden insistent tug of arousal in her own gut at the sight of Aleks’ hand tracing the marks that she had left on her girlfriend’s skin just hours earlier.

What Fareeha had _meant_ to do was prove a point, to show that perhaps Fareeha’s back was not scratched up after a weekend off base, like Aleks’ was after one of her many one night stands, but not due to a dearth of good sex—only because it is, in fact, Angela who was marked in the process.  What she had _meant_ to do was to plant the idea in Aleks’ mind that she might want to learn more about what it is Angela and herself get up to in the bedroom, so that Aleks would mull it over, would consider carefully her next move, before _she_ came to the two of _them_.  What she had _meant_ to do was… well, Fareeha supposes it does not matter what it was she meant to do, because in truth, with Aleks in her arms right now, and Angela on her knees in front of the two of them, Fareeha cannot imagine any better outcome.

(Except, perhaps, for one with fewer suds, and a lower risk of falling.)

After all of Aleks’ bragging, Fareeha is not sure what she expected, but it was not this, because somehow the Aleks in her mind was always suave, always put together and in control, and Aleks is not at all, is _sensitive_ , incredibly so, is responsive to every pinch and roll of her nipples, breath hitching and chest pressing out for _more_. 

And the _praise_.  That Fareeha would never have guessed; of course, Aleks is supportive in training, giving easy encouragement, but Fareeha never imagined that it would extend to here, to something like this.

But it does.  When Fareeha presses kisses to the corner of Aleks’ jaw, when Angela moves her mouth _just so,_ fingers digging into Aleks’ ass in a way Fareeha knows means she is sucking at Aleks’ clit, when the two of them time something just right, Aleks praises them, _yes,_ and _like that_ and _you’re perfect_ and _you look so pretty on your knees for me_ , a thousand little encouragements falling easily from her mouth.

(Fareeha almost wishes they had done this earlier—neither she nor Angela realized, before the two of them were together, just how much they like that, being praised, and although they have fumbled through it together, have learned with time what sounds _right_ to say without being awkward, or obvious, or too much, it seems to come naturally to Aleks.  Doing _this_ with Aleks a year sooner might have saved the two of them a good deal of embarrassment along the way.)

Something about Aleks makes Fareeha _want_ to please her, and desperately so—perhaps it is her easy confidence, or the way in which she says _good girl_ , or the heady thought that someone as large, as strong as Aleks is could be rendered weak at the knees and helpless in Fareeha’s arms when touched just so.  Fareeha does not try too terribly hard to dissect it, to discover the _why_ of the matter, is much too distracted by the way in which Aleks is practically melting in her arms, by the little noises she makes, by the way Aleks arches back against her when Angela moves her tongue _just so._

Although they have certainly never done _this_ before, Fareeha knows Aleks well, has developed an easy camaraderie with her on the battlefield and in the gym, has learned to read her, all her little tells, and she knows even before Aleks says, voice strained _just a bit more, right there,_ that she is close, can tell by the way her muscles strain beneath the hands Fareeha is using to hold her up, by the rhythm of her breathing, by the way her flush has spread all the way down towards the middle of her chest.  From her view over Aleks’ shoulder, she can see Angela move one hand up to join her mouth, redoubling her efforts, and Fareeha knows so well the sensation that she can almost feel it herself, has to bite her lip to stay quiet, such that she does not miss a moment of the sounds that Aleks makes as she comes.

She is quieter than Fareeha expected, quieter than her previous behavior might have indicated, but Fareeha does catch a _yes,_ and a _there, Angela_ , and a _Fareeha_ among the whispers and it is better, even, than a year of anticipating, of thinking _what if_ , of wondering how this would sound had made her picture it, to have Aleks shaking in her arms, and well worth the effort of holding her upright.

Then it is over, and there is a moment of awkwardness between the three of them, not quite sure what to say or do in this situation, before Angela stands, brushing herself off as if she could possibly have gotten dirty kneeling in the shower, and opens her mouth to speak at the exact same time as Aleks says _wow_ and Fareeha begins to ask, “What’s next?”

They all laugh then, the three of them, and the tension is broken for the moment.

Or, it seems to be, until Aleks reaches to pull at the hem of Angela’s underwear, saying “Let us even things up, yes?” and Angela, instead of acquiescing, steps backwards, just out of reach, so suddenly that Fareeha thinks it surprises even her.

“No!” says she, a little too sharply and then, shooting an anxious glance at Fareeha, continues, “I mean—it’s just…”

“She likes watching,” Fareeha says, and it is not a lie, and makes it clear to Aleks that, whatever is wrong, this is not her fault—Fareeha will ask Angela, later, what caused the change of mind, if she is willing to share, but knows also that if the problem were _Aleks_ and not Angela’s own issues, that Angela would not have been afraid to make that known.

“Yes,” Angela sounds grateful, and goes to sit on a nearby bench facing the two of them, “I’d prefer to, if that’s alright with you.”

“Well,” Aleks grins, polite enough not to question Angela’s obvious and sudden comfort, “Good thing I am so good-looking.  We will give you a show.”

With her agreement, any remaining tension seems to dissipate, and Fareeha even shares a small smile with Angela over Aleks’ shoulder, even as the latter is moving to lift and pin her to the wall of the shower stall, legs straddling one of Aleks’ strong thighs.

It takes a moment for her to get back into the mood, but Fareeha can feel Aleks’ muscles move beneath her skin as they shift against one another, trying to find a better position, can feel Aleks’ breath hot against her ear when she snakes a hand down to touch her, can feel how wet she is and wonders how much is her own natural lubrication and what of it is Angela’s saliva, or dripping sweat, or the lingering dampness of their shower and the humidity of the room.  She closes her eyes, and focuses on the sensations, the cold tile against her back contrasting with the warmth of Aleks at her front, the firmness of Aleks’ thigh against her center as she rocks against her, the tug of arousal when Aleks digs blunt nails into her waist with one hand, and tightens the grip holding her hair up off of her neck with the other.

And, throughout it all, the feeling of Angela’s eyes on her from across the room.

(Already, sex with Aleks would be a more than simply _pleasant_ affair, would be—quite literally—a fantasy come to life, but it is all the better for having Angela here, for sharing this experience with the woman she loves.  Even if Fareeha is not looking at her right now, has her eyes sealed shut in order to focus on sensation, she knows what Angela must look like right now and that, the familiarity of Angela’s habits mixed with her uncertainty about Aleks’, her inability to anticipate what is coming, is a nearly overwhelming combination.)

As Aleks’ mouth moves down to nip at her neck, the hand at her waist moves up to her ribcage, such that Aleks can run her hand over Fareeha’s breast and—just barely—flick it over her nipple.  It startles Fareeha, who did not anticipate that the different in size between the two of them would make such a thing possible, so used is she to being the taller of her partners, and she bucks her hips more strongly against Aleks’ thigh in response.  Already, she is getting close, in part because she has been aroused since before they even properly got started, since before she watched her girlfriend go down on Aleks, since she first realized that this might, in fact, happen, and in part simply because this is so very, very perfect; she and Aleks fit well against one another, move together in tandem, experienced already with keeping one another’s pace elsewhere, and everything is heightened by the knowledge that Angela is _watching_ them, is there with them.

When she hears a familiar groan she looks up, sees Angela, underwear shoved to one side so she can finger herself, a hand at her breast, head thrown back in the midst of an orgasm, and Fareeha knows that she will not last much longer at all.  She moves her free hand down to her clit, works harder with her other on Aleks, and moves her hips in time with what she has come to expect from Angela’s, and when Angela opens her eyes again to look at Fareeha at the same time as Aleks whispers _I’m close_ Fareeha is gone, thighs tightening their grip on Aleks’ thigh, breath coming in sharp pants, hand moving frantically to ensure Aleks comes, too.

When she fully returns to her senses, Angela is standing next to the two of them, placing gentle kisses on her shoulder—too short, Fareeha knows, to easily reach her cheek—and the hand Angela has placed on the center of her chest is sticky, still, from having touched herself; Fareeha doesn’t mind, not really, but they are not in the sort of position which avails itself to cuddling, and in this position she is quickly growing uncomfortable.

“I think,” says she, “That we all need another shower.”

“And next time,” Angela adds, “We ought to try doing this in a bed.”

“Next time?” Aleks asks, and voice hopeful.

Fareeha exchanges a glance with Angela, then—they still need to talk about this, of course, about what happened earlier, but she _seems_ to have enjoyed herself, and to want to do this again, and so Fareeha says simply, “Yes.”

As exciting as imagining what it might be like to do this with Aleks was, Fareeha finds herself even _more_ excited, having fucked her once, to be able to anticipate doing so again.

 _Next time_ , she thinks.  Next time, things will be even better, will be more planned, will be done with an air of familiarity and not so much uncertainty.  Next time, they can take their time, and need not worry about falling, or setting boundaries spontaneously.  _Next time_ , because there will be a next time, because this was good enough to repeat, for all of them, was something worth doing more than once, they will have to think about what this means, for all of them, if it goes well too, because if _next time_ has a _next time,_ there is more to consider than a fling, a fun rendezvous with a friend.

But that is getting ahead of herself; for now, Fareeha is better served being concerned with not getting soap in her eyes as she washes the sweat from her hair.  Planning, after all, is not what brought her here.

For once in her life, Fareeha is content to let things unfold as they will.

**Author's Note:**

> in conclusion, zarya's muscles are lesbian catnip, and they definitely did this again. only in a bed and with a little more pre-negotiation. and that time aleks gets to eat angela out in return lmao
> 
> title is from wet's you're the best bc vicky and i were talking abt wet today and. im gay. the end


End file.
